Turnabout Modeling
by Peoplepersonsof DooM
Summary: Edgeworth signs up for an art class and gets a surprise he won't be forgetting any time soon. Nothing ever goes as planned, does it? Crackish oneshot.


It was with much prodding did he leave his office and it was with much more prodding that he would even consider leaving it for a recreational activity.

Miles Edgeworth was never one for vacations; those were rare occurrences as he was devoted and married to his work. He didn't have the time for anything else, that is, until today. Wright and that trouble-making Larry barged into his office on the 12th floor two weeks ago demanding he take at _least _one day off to do something fun, convinced he was over working himself. They wouldn't remove themselves from the premises until he obliged to their wishes. Begrudgingly, he complied, mainly to continue sorting old case files and enjoy his tea in peace.

The prosecutor stood around tapping his folded arms, checking his watch in the little dark gray room. Easels, paper, charcoal, vases, and stools were just a few things strewn about in here. It was an utter mess and horribly unorganized. But he supposed it made sense, considering this was an art studio and he could never recall ever seeing one being tidy.

It may have been his first time signing up for an art class, but he was prepared. He already had his easel set up with the board and Stonehenge paper ready to go. His charcoal and kneaded eraser he had just purchased was of the best kind. As a child he had loathed the arts because he could not, in his opinion do them well. But, it was all subjective and perhaps now he could attempt it again with a more mature and open mind. The von Karma household didn't bother much with art; they had only be taught to observe which pieces were supposedly better than others and which ones were utter garbage. Music lessons were preferred option in the upbringing of perfect children.

The instructors and the three other students were present; they were only waiting for the model to arrive. He was informed that they would be nude models, which was something he had never experienced before. But again, it was logical considering it was a figure drawing class, and one could not be expected to learn how to draw the human body if it were draped in clothes. It may seem uncomfortable at first, but he was willing to try. Secretly, the prosecutor had been thinking about learning to draw for a while, if only to draw fan art for his beloved Steel Samurai. It would be magnificent, to eventually become decent enough to draw his hero and share his work, something to be proud of, for others (on the internet) to see. It would be a challenge, but he'd win it. He would not lose.

"Alright, now that our model is here we can get started!"

Edgeworth looked up in surprise. He had been so lost in thought he had missed the model enter the room. Swift hands reached for the case of charcoal and the eraser. Just as he was opening the case, he decided to get a quick glance at the model. He wondered what that must have been like, being called in to places to stand nude.

The prosecutor's eyes bulged in horror. He felt himself shaking, the heat rising his cheeks at a rapid rate. What he saw appalled and sickened him.

He turned around at the wrong moment and got an eyeful; that was first time he had ever seen a vagina like- _that_. The model was a shriveled up old woman, in her 60s at least, and he had the misfortune of having seen inside of her as she undressed, sitting down on the towel she had spread out in the middle of the room. He could not pull his eyes away from the pink and red wrinkly genitalia in front of him. Everything was sagging and it fascinated him and frightened the prosecutor all at once. He had wished he had been informed at least about the age of the model…

The prosecutor shook his head trying to regain his composure. It would be fine, it's not like they would be drawing that part or at least at that angle, he rationalized.

"What poses are you planning on today, Wendy?" the instructor asked.

The model looked up to answer the instructor. "Oh, you know the usual, dearie." she said waving a hand.

Edgeworth's eyes were now wide open and glued to the woman's face.

It couldn't be. It was impossible. It couldn't be who he thought it was. The model- it couldn't be…it couldn't be! But that voice, oh, that voice! That old cheery, breathy sound was unforgettable. After all of the terrible encounters over the years, it was unmistakable. The truth couldn't be over looked. But of all things, of all places, of all people-!

And he had seen her sagging breasts and inside her vagina. _Her _vagina.

He was ready to vomit any minute now.

"NGHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" he cried pitifully.

All eyes in the room were on him.

"Oh! Edgey poo!" she said eyes sparkling like a school girl.

"I- you- why do you always show up where I am?!"

"Oh, you're acquainted with Wendy, Mr. Edgeworth?" asked the instructor.

"Oh, yes, dearie! We go back a long a way," she smirked.

Edgeworth was cringing. He saw things he should not have seen. He wasn't an outwardly emotional person, but God did he ever want to cry.

Oldbag had finished getting undressed and was standing up now posing all the while making eyes at Edgeworth, winking and what not. The instructor had told everyone to begun making his or her drawings.

The prosecutor refused to draw. He could not and would not do such a thing to soil his paper with an image of that woman. Images of certain things were already implanted in his mind that he would have to scrub out later.

He made a few marks on his paper, picked up his charcoal set and eraser, and left the studio without so much as saying a word.

After an hour passed, the instructor realized the prosecutor wasn't returning, which was odd considering he already paid for the class. It was a shame. The oldbag just rambled on about how she'd seduce her Edgey poo, to the point where he thought it wrong to be enamored with such a beautiful maiden as to being the reason why he left. The instructor just shrugged, he still got paid and that's all that mattered.

Class was just about over when the instructor decided to check Edgeworth's spot. He had left in such a hurry, leaving the board with paper still attached behind. What he saw confused him. No drawing was to be found, but rather a simple note, which read:

"Miles Edgeworth chooses death."

* * *

"So how did your art class go?" the spiked headed attorney asked.

Edgeworth just stared at him in disgust.

"Get out, Wright."

"But I just got here. It didn't go well, huh? Was it the paper cranes again?"

Edgeworth ignored him and stared vacantly into his tea cup, brimming with what appeared to be hot tea.

"Um, Edgeworth? Is everything alright?" It looked like the other man had completely shut down. He hoped he didn't break him or something.

No response. Phoenix sniffed the air, something smelled funny. It smelled sort of like...brandy.

"Edgeworth, you aren't drunk are you?"

The prosecutor took a giant swig of his tea mixed with a heavy dose of liquor.

"No."

Suddenly three psychelocks appeared in front of the prosecutor. Now, Phoenix was scared. Edgeworth would _never _ever drink on the job. What in the world happened?

"...You're drunk. What happened in that art class?"

"Unspeakable things. You've ruined my life enough, haven't you? How much more havoc do you seek to inflict upon my psyche?"

"Edgeworth-"

The prosecutor grabbed the stupid defense attorney's tie and pulled it hard, practically choking the other man.

"I saw things, Wright," he hissed, the smell of liquor heavy on his breath. "And it's all. Your. Fault. "

Phoenix tried to remove Edgeworth's hand, which was latched on to his tie threatening to kill him. "H-hey stop-"

"You want to know? You _really_ want to know? It was that Godforsaken woman...Wendy Oldbag." he released the attorney from his clutches.

Phoenix could breath again, now readjusting his tie. "Oh. Well, she's not my favorite either, but-"

"Naked." he whispered. "I saw everything."

Phoenix Wright cringed. That was not what he was expecting to hear. He didn't like to imagine seeing Oldbag naked. He could only imagine what Edgeworth had seen.

"Well, that must have been...quite the view."

It was at moment Edgeworth dropped his tea cup and began to cry. Now, Phoenix was really uncomfortable. He had never seen Edgeworth cry (well, not in adulthood anyway).

"H-hey, it's okay! You'll be fine!" Phoenix said awkwardly patting Edgeworth on the back.

"Don't touch me! I hate you!" Edgeworth yelled swatting Phoenix's hands away.

"But I was just trying to hel-"

"GET OUT. NOW. DON'T STEP FOOT IN MY OFFICE EVER AGAIN!"

Phoenix scurried out of the office fearfully. A drunken Edgeworth was a scary one. He'd leave Detective Gumshoe to deal with that train wreck. He sighed to himself, he really did want to help Edgeworth get out more. But it didn't look like it would happen again any time soon. It would not safe to enter his office for a while, and he sincerely hoped he wouldn't have a case against him anytime soon. He'd kill him assuredly. Maybe with some time he could convince Edgeworth to try dance classes next. Though, he'd make sure Wendy Oldbag was no where near the premises next time.


End file.
